


the kids are alright

by Philosoferre



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Fluff, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, M/M, Making Out, Secret Relationship, ish, max and billy have a good relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 17:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20050024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosoferre/pseuds/Philosoferre
Summary: Dustin tries to get a peek, but Steve pushes him away. “Ooh, is that your secret girlfriend?” He asks, making gross cooing noises.Steve’s head snaps up, his fingers frozen on his phone screen. “What?”-The kids were never supposed to think Steve has a secret girlfriend. Because he doesn’t. That’s the problem, actually. He has a secret boyfriend, and it’s Billy fucking Hargrove.





	the kids are alright

**Author's Note:**

> billy deserved better, and this is the better i think he deserves. i got a lot of love on my last harringrove fic, and i just wanna say how much i adore this fandom. y'all are the real mvps <3
> 
> this one's for my sister, who listened to me talk about fic for 40 minutes a day, 5 days a week - your support means the world. and to harmony, for hearing me out when i was basically a missionary for the billy h. christ church <3

Steve’s phone vibrates, startling Dustin so much that he loses his focus and falls off the road, and Steve somehow ends up in first place. The second the little victory banner appears on the screen, he grabs his phone before Dustin can lay a single finger on it. Dammit, he really needs to put it on silent. He can’t have the kids snooping around and accidentally seeing something they shouldn’t. 

“Aw, no fair,” Dustin says, waving his controller around like that’ll help him out. “Rematch, Steve. I call a rematch.”

Steve shakes his head. “Hey, that’s illegal. Besides, we have literally one round left, you’ll probably still win. Chill.”

He shoves himself in the corner of his couch and tries to block his phone off so that no one can see what he’s looking at. He glances at his notifications: it’s a text from Billy. Of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. 

Dustin tries to get a peek, but Steve pushes him away. “Ooh, is that your secret girlfriend?” He asks, making gross cooing noises.

Steve’s head snaps up, his fingers frozen on his phone screen. “What?”

“Your secret girlfriend,” Lucas repeats, from where he’s taken over Steve’s dad’s armchair. Like saying exactly what Dustin said makes things any clearer. 

Steve isn’t sure he understands what they’re saying. “What secret girlfriend?”

Max rolls her eyes, chugs a can of Coke, and steals Steve’s abandoned controller. She can play the next round for all he cares; he’s now more invested in finding out why the fuck they all seem to think he has a secret girlfriend. 

“You know,” Max says, shrugging. “Your girlfriend? She keeps texting you, like all the time? Come on, you don’t seriously think we haven’t noticed.”

Steve blinks. Glances down at his phone. Looks back up at their expectant faces. 

“Oh,” he says smartly.

Shit. 

They were never supposed to pay attention to how much time he spends on his phone. They were never supposed to think he has a secret girlfriend. Because he doesn’t. That’s the problem, actually. He has a secret  _ boyfriend _ , and it’s Billy fucking Hargrove. 

Steve looks at his phone again, ignores the way the kids coo at him. 

** _From: Billy <3_ **

_ steeeevvvvvvveeeeee _

_ pay attention to me bby _

_ sTeVe Im DyInG  _

“What’d she say?” Dustin asks. He sounds way too excited, like he’s the one who got the text and he isn’t just weirdly interested in Steve’s love life. 

Steve flips him off. “God, it’s just my mom. Can you guys, like, take a chill pill?”

He waits until Max and Dustin get their round started before he texts Billy back; less prying eyes means he can get away with more shit. 

** _To: Billy <3_ **

_ stop omg i saw you yesterday _

_ you’re so needy _

“What’s her name?” Will asks, pulling Steve’s blanket tighter over his shoulders. 

Steve nearly drops his phone. His fingers slip and he almost sends a text that’s just a single, ominous  _ h _ . “Who?” He asks. 

“Your girlfriend,” Will says. Like that should’ve been obvious. 

Shit. 

“Uh,” Steve stammers, glances down at his phone screen, at the little message that tells him Billy’s typing. He puts his phone on silent. “Billy.”

Max and Dustin pause their game, both turning to look at him with narrowed eyes and frowns. Even Mike, who didn’t seem too interested in Steve’s secret girlfriend before, is suddenly paying attention to him. 

“Billy?” Lucas echoes.

Shit shit shit shit-

“Like, um.” Steve swallows around the lump in his throat. He waves his hand around to buy some time. “Like Billie Eilish.”

Dear lord, this has got to be the dumbest thing he’s ever said. He doesn’t even really know who Billie Eilish is, just that she sings and she likes creepy shit or whatever. He saw her album at Walmart and the cover scared the fuck out of him, so he avoids her music if it accidentally shows up on Spotify. Not that he’d ever admit that, or anything. It’s not something he’s particularly proud of.

No one says anything for a long, awkward minute. Steve mentally kicks himself. 

“You know who Billie Eilish is?” Max asks, finally breaking the silence. “Aren’t you, like… too old?”

Steve takes offence at that, and now he feels like he can’t admit he doesn’t listen to her stuff, because that would just prove Max’s point, and- since when has he started caring what a bunch of fourteen-year-olds think of him? 

“Shut up,” Steve says. 

He throws a pillow at Max for good measure. He wants to add something about how he’s pretty sure he’s the same age as Billie Eilish anyway, but he doesn’t actually know if that’s true, and he’s too scared of getting it wrong. Doesn’t want to give the kids more reasons to be suspicious. He’s already on thin fucking ice, already so close to accidentally saying something he shouldn’t.

“Can I play a round now?” Will asks, reaching for the controller in Dustin’s hands. 

Dustin grumbles under his breath, but he hands it over anyway, and all the tension Steve’s been feeling is suddenly gone. They start up another game, like they’ve just forgotten about Steve’s apparent secret girlfriend. Like with a snap of their fingers, the conversation is over. 

Steve mumbles out a lie about something he has to do for school - which, okay, isn’t technically a lie, but homework is the last thing on his mind so it’s not like he’s actually going to do it - and scrambles to his room, closing the door behind him so he can finally get some privacy. 

Billy sent him four texts in the past five minutes. Steve lets out a sigh, but it’s fond, and he isn’t even annoyed. He would’ve been. Once. But now, he just thinks it’s nice. He likes knowing there’s someone out there who cares about him, who  _ misses _ him. 

** _From: Billy <3_ **

_ yeah and??? am i not allowed to miss my boyfriend?? _

_ i just wanna,,,, kiss you rn  _

_ hey can i come over tomorrow??  _

_ you promised me a marathon and we still haven’t done that and i get to choose the movies so we’re gonna watch every horror movie we collectively own and if you don’t like that you can go fuck yourself  _

Steve laughs, imagining Billy pouting and furiously trying to explain why he needs to see every fucking  _ Scream _ movie, because Billy doesn’t make the rules but it’s the law, and he can’t break the fucking law. It doesn’t take him long to realize that the movie marathon he promised a while ago isn’t the real reason Billy wants to come over, though, and his smile falters. 

Steve texts him back before Billy thinks he’s ignoring him.

** _To: Billy <3_ **

_ ok sure but i can’t promise i’ll actually look at the tv when people get decapitated or whatever  _

_ so don’t bring anything too gory, i hate that shit  _

_ also  _

_ i really wanna kiss you too btw _

Steve closes his eyes and lets out a soft, quiet sigh, tries not to think too hard about Billy’s soft lips and gentle hands and warm, warm skin. He glances down at his phone, at the single eggplant emoji Billy sent him, and heads back to his living room before he gets carried away. 

* * *

  
  


Steve almost forgets about the whole “secret girlfriend” fiasco until Dustin decides to bring it up again over dinner. The little shits basically forced Steve to let them stay, called their parents to let them know they’re having a fucking sleepover, and now he’s waiting for the pizza delivery guy to show up. Sometimes, he doesn’t know why he still puts up with them.

“So, when you said you were doing homework,” Dustin drawls, digging through Steve’s pantry until he finds a brand-new bag of Doritos. Which, rude, because Steve was saving those for Billy, who is arguably the world’s biggest Dorito slut. “Was that actually just an excuse to talk to your girlfriend? Or, like, do other things, but-”

“Jesus, no,” Steve groans, making a face. “I was gonna do homework, for real, but it was boring and I didn’t feel like it.”

Lucas hums and asks, “What did you say her name was? Billy?” 

Max sniggers. “Like  _ Billie Eilish _ .”

Steve just puts his hands on his hips, like the single mother he must’ve been in a past life, and sighs. Usually, he doesn’t put up with their preteen shit, but he knows they’ll shut up soon. After all, they  _ are _ relying on him for food and shelter tonight, and he can easily eat all the pizza by himself, if he feels like it. Ergo, they won’t risk actually riling him up.

“Look,” Steve says, “you guys were the ones who brought her up in the first place, so you can’t be rude about it. And yeah, her name is Billy. Deal with it.”

No one says anything for a long, awkward minute. Mike rolls his eyes at least five times. Will pretends to busy himself with sorting through Steve’s impressive DVD collection to find something to watch. 

“Tell us more about her,” Lucas says. He sounds surprisingly sincere. Like maybe this time, it isn’t just a joke. 

Steve scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “What do you wanna know? And nothing gross, okay.”

Max rests her chin on her hand and narrows her eyes, tilts her head and hums contemplatively. Sometimes, she really reminds Steve of Billy. They like to give each other shit, sure, but they have a lot of things in common. They both get the same expression when they’re thinking, and they have the same smirk. It makes him miss Billy, even though they just saw each other yesterday. Makes him miss his smile, and his clever tongue, and his hands, and his-

“Is she pretty?” Dustin asks, mouth full of Doritos.

Steve coughs, ducks his head to hide his blush. “Yeah,” he says, and he doesn’t even bother trying to fight the softness in his voice. “Yeah, the prettiest.”

“Oh shit,” Lucas says. “You sound like you’re in love.”

“I’m not in love,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly. “We haven’t even been going out for that long, Jesus. I just think she’s pretty.”

Max makes a face. “Ew, gross.”

“Shut up,” Steve says, and he’s definitely  _ not _ blushing. 

He’s really starting to regret even letting the kids ask about his non-existent girlfriend; firstly, they apparently can’t go one minute without teasing him, and secondly, he knows it’s only a matter of time before he screws up and says the wrong thing. He’s already being pretty fucking cautious about everything, and it’s exhausting. 

“When did you guys start dating?” Will asks, setting aside the  _ Ghostbusters _ DVD. It’s a good choice.

Dustin nods, a little too enthusiastically, and pokes Steve’s arm. “Yeah, and why didn’t you tell us?”

Steve waves his hand around vaguely, trying to buy some time to think. “Well, we’re not, like, officially dating, so. But, um. We’ve been  _ seeing _ each other for a month. Ish.” Steve swallows; his throat feels dry. “And I didn’t tell you guys because there’s nothing to tell.”

“So why does her contact name have a heart?” Mike asks, sneering down at Steve’s phone.

Which. Shit. 

Steve scrambles to get his phone out of Mike’s hands. “Uh, so I wouldn’t confuse her with, um, Hargrove,” he mumbles, heart beating loudly and hands shaking.

Billy sent him another eggplant emoji, and sure, Steve’s glad it isn’t nearly as obscene as some of his more detailed texts, but he knows the kids are aware of what it means, and he doesn’t want them thinking he has a sex life or anything. They’re, like, thirteen. They’re supposed to be innocent. 

Max narrows her eyes again. “You have my brother’s number?”

Shit. There’s no way Steve can get out of this one. “We had a group project once, no big deal. It’s not like I recreationally text him.”

That definitely wasn’t a good way to save the situation, but. Well. People make mistakes. Steve’s not immune to that.

“Okay,” Max says. She makes a weird face, almost like she knows Steve’s hiding something. But it might also be because she doesn’t know why anyone would want to recreationally text Billy, which is honestly a fair point.

Steve rubs a hand across his face and sighs. “I’m not fielding any more questions.”

* * *

  
  


As much as they like talking about how late they’ll stay up, the kids barely make it past midnight before they all crash. They’d been binge-watching  _ The Good Place _ , which they had insisted Steve needed to see, and by the time they got to the fifth episode, most of them were asleep. The last person awake was Lucas, and that was only because he wanted to prove a point to Dustin. Steve left them in the living room, sprawled across his couch and taking up all the floor space, once he realized they weren’t going to wake up. 

It’s almost two am now, and Steve’s still awake. He knows he should put his phone away and go to sleep, but he feels like that would just screw up his already-fucked schedule. So he just keeps scrolling through BuzzFeed, doing quizzes just for the fun of it, reading articles about celebrities he’s never heard of. 

Eventually, once he’s gone through everything he’s remotely interested in, he switches to Instagram. It’s usually pretty good at making him sleepy, having his whole dash filled with bad-quality vacation photos, blurry selfies with ridiculous filters, or memes he’s seen at least fifty times. Steve’s deleted the app over ten times in the past few months, because all that predictable repetition just kept getting on his nerves.

It’s a bad idea, to go on Billy’s account. Steve knows that, but he just can’t help himself. There’s nothing new, not a single post he hasn’t seen before. The last update is another shirtless selfie from two days ago: Billy, laughing, casually resting against his Camaro, glowing gold. Unlike most of the stuff he posts, Steve knows this one isn’t staged, because he’d been there. It was a particularly hot day, and they drove down to the quarry after school. Steve was just messing around with Billy’s phone, trying to get the most terrible pictures he could - and Billy had laughed at something he said, so genuine and open and adorable, and Steve couldn’t not take the opportunity. 

Billy had tagged him in the photo, but he hadn’t mentioned him in the caption. Which is fine, obviously. Their relationship is still a secret, and Steve doesn’t want to jeopardize what they have, especially not over an Instagram post. 

Sometimes, though, he wants to stop keeping it a secret. Wants Billy to talk about him in his captions, post embarrassing photos of Steve, flaunt their love to the whole damn world. Wants to be able to kiss Billy in the hallway, hold his hand as they walk to class, make out in the parking lot like everyone else, in the relative privacy of the Camaro. And he knows Billy wants that too, that he’d do anything to make sure everyone knows Steve’s his. It’s just. Steve’s so afraid of coming out, of what people might think or say. He tries not to think about that too much, but it’s hard, when he grew up with everyone he knows. 

He’s scrolling through Billy’s countless selfies, wishing Billy was here instead, when he hears a noise from outside. The soft thud of approaching footsteps. Something scratching at his house. Steve’s breath catches in his throat; his heart beats so loud he’s sure it’ll wake up the kids. 

There’s the familiar slide of his window opening, and  _ shit _ , he should’ve locked it. Steve feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest. Someone slips into his room, hidden in the dark, and Steve really wants to scream-

“Jesus, relax, it’s just me.”

Billy flashes Steve a cocky grin, tosses his jacket somewhere in the room, and sits on the edge of Steve’s bed. He stretches, still smiling, like he hadn’t just crawled through the window without any warning. 

“What the fuck?” Steve hisses. He pulls his covers up and frowns. 

Billy just shrugs. “I said I’d come over tomorrow, and it’s technically tomorrow, so. Don’t act so surprised.”

“It’s fucking  _ two am _ , Billy,” Steve grumbles. Runs a hand through his hair and sighs, because he cannot  _ believe _ this is what his life has come to. “You’re lucky I wasn’t asleep.”

“Wouldn’t have stopped me,” Billy says, grinning like the complete asshole he is. 

Steve doesn’t understand what the fuck he’s talking about, until he does. And then he wishes he didn’t. 

“God!” Steve throws a pillow at Billy and groans. “Jesus, you’re so fucking gross.”

Billy lets out a quiet, breathy laugh and crawls over Steve’s bed, kicking his shoes off and planting his hands firmly on either side of Steve’s shoulders. He looks down at Steve, eyes half-hooded; his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. 

“That’s why you like me,” Billy says, voice low and husky. 

Steve doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just reaches his hand up, runs his thumb along Billy’s jaw, and pulls him down for a kiss. Billy hums, soft and low and pleased, and tilts his head. His teeth graze Steve’s lower lip, his hands are warm and steady by his side. Steve lets his mouth fall open, drinks in the taste of bubblegum on Billy’s tongue, closes his eyes so that the only thing he can feel is Billy; the warmth on his skin, the body hovering above him, the trail of wet kisses on his neck. 

“Woah, wait,” Steve says, his breath uneven. “What are you doing?”

Billy looks up from where he’s currently edging dangerously close to Steve’s boxers, ghosting his fingers over his skin. “Uh, I’m gonna blow you?”

Which. Sounds really fucking nice, but there  _ are _ kids in the house, like literally downstairs, and they’d be really screwed if any of them happened to be light sleepers. Steve isn’t exactly quiet, and he doesn’t want to risk waking them up. It’s unfortunate, though, because Billy looks absolutely sinful, and it kind of feels like a waste.

“Maybe like, not now?” Steve bites his lip, hopes his puppy eyes are working. 

Billy huffs. “Is it cause the brats are here? Cause I could keep you quiet, you know, maybe gag you if-”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Steve whines and buries his face in his hands so that Billy can’t see his blush. 

Billy lets out a low laugh and crawls up until he’s leaning over Steve again. His eyes glint in the soft, silver light from the open window. Washed in that hazy glow, he looks predatory and positively dangerous, but in a good way. In the best way. 

“We can make out, though?” Steve offers. He reaches up to card a hand through Billy’s hair and rests it on his cheek. 

“Yeah, okay,” Billy says, turning his head to press a quick, intimate kiss to Steve’s palm. “I didn’t walk all this way to get turned down.”

Steve kisses him softly and murmurs, “You think you’re all that, huh?”

Billy just laughs against his lips, and then there’s really no room for talking. His tongue slides against Steve’s, his kisses slow and gentle and chapped. Their mouths open, and Steve drinks in every bit of him he can, snakes his hands up to claw at Billy’s back, nails scratching at his shirt, restless and needy. He feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t touch Billy, if he doesn’t feel his familiar warmth. And if this was any other night, he’d be down to fuck, no hesitation. But he’d feel kinda weird if Billy’s dick was up his ass, considering there are literal children in his house. And like, he has a feeling that would kill the mood, anyway. 

Steve pushes Billy back until only their noses are touching, closes his eyes and takes a second to regain his breath. Billy doesn’t lose his momentum, though; he just leans down and presses kisses along Steve’s jaw, nips at his skin, grazes his sharp teeth over his collarbone. 

“Billy,” Steve pants, desperate for any part of him he can get - his hands, his lips, just his  _ body. _

“What, baby?” Billy nuzzles at his neck, darts his tongue out to lick a long, wet stripe on his exposed skin. 

Steve squirms under him, a warm, heavy feeling pooling low in his stomach, coursing through his veins, clouding his mind. He really, really wants to do more, is  _ so close _ to kicking his boxers off and letting Billy have his way. 

“Can we- ahh-” Steve gasps, and he immediately forgets what he was going to say. Billy’s sinfully talented with his tongue. “Shit.”

Billy laughs, lips pressed lightly against Steve’s skin. He pulls his shirt off in slow, deliberate movements, until he’s all gold skin and taut muscle, and those blue, blue eyes. Steve runs his hand down his chest, pausing at the button on his jeans. He wears them so unbearably tight; it used to get on Steve’s nerves, but now- well, he appreciates the view. Like, a lot. 

“You better not get any ideas,” Steve says, taps his finger on Billy’s navel. 

“ _ Get _ ideas?” Billy licks his lips. “You say that like I don’t already have some.”

“Charming,” Steve huffs. 

He pulls Billy back down for a kiss, open-mouthed and warm, and if they stayed like this forever, Steve would be okay with that. Just the two of them and the darkness and the comfort of Steve’s bed. Billy kisses him like it’s the most important thing in the world; he’s hungry and rough and predatory, all sharp teeth. Steve likes it, likes the weight of someone stronger pressing him down, likes the way Billy leaves bruises and marks on his skin. Likes knowing he’s Billy’s, and that if other people looked close enough, hard enough, they could know it too. 

Steve tilts his head so that Billy’s lips catch his cheek instead, takes a breath, and rests two fingers on his chest. 

“Hey,” Billy says, low and sultry. He runs his thumb along Steve’s jaw and smiles. “You okay?”

Steve kisses him and says, “Yeah, I just- we should go to sleep.”

“Oh,” Billy says, blinks like he’s surprised. He sits up and glances over at Steve’s clock, glowing an obnoxious green in the otherwise dark room. “Do you mind if I stay here?”

Steve shakes his head. “Never. You know that.” He pats the space on the bed beside him. “C’mere.”

Billy just lets out a quiet laugh, but he wastes no time in getting rid of his jeans - he’s perfected the art of quickly taking them off, however tight they are - and climbing under the covers. He snuggles right up to Steve, wraps an arm around his waist, and presses a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

“Good night, babe,” Billy whispers, his breath tickling Steve’s bare skin.

Steve sighs into his pillow and says, “Good night.”

He falls asleep to the comforting rhythm of Billy’s breath, and warm, strong arms holding him close.

* * *

  
  


The first thing Steve notices when he wakes up is Billy, pressed right against him, burning hot like a furnace. The second thing he notices is that there’s someone standing in front of his bed - or, well, multiple someones. 

Steve’s eyes snap wide open just as Dustin says, “Holy shit.”

The kids are standing so close, there’s absolutely no way they haven’t noticed Billy yet. Fuck. This isn’t how Steve imagined this going.

“Uh,” Steve stammers, scrambling to push Billy’s arms off him to make their position look a little less compromising. “This isn’t what it-”

“Are you cheating on your girlfriend?” Mike asks, sneering. 

Steve rubs at his eyes and groans. He really, really just wants to go back to sleep and never address this. “What? I don’t have a girlfriend, Jesus.”

They all look at him like he’s out of his mind, which is a fair point, but they’re smart, so they should be able to put the pieces together. It’s way too early for Steve to have to explain it to them, and he’s not so sure he wants to anyway. There’s something off in their expressions - disgust, betrayal. Dustin looks a little hurt. Max, oddly enough, doesn’t seem as surprised as everyone else. Steve wonders if Billy ever told her that he’s gay. 

“Is that  _ Hargrove _ ?” Lucas asks, eyes wide. He blinks once, twice; his mouth forms a small ‘o’.

“Yeah, and?” Steve lets out a long, tired sigh, raises an eyebrow as if to challenge them. If they want to comment about it, they might as well say whatever they’re thinking to his face. He can deal with it. 

Max opens her mouth to say something, her lips curled up in a smile - and then Billy’s flipping them all off and sitting up. If Steve rolled over, he’d see Billy’s sleepy, adorable face and messy hair, and it would make him melt a little, but he can’t do that. Not now, not with a bunch of preteens looming over his bed. 

“Hey, shitbirds,” Billy says, sounding a lot more annoyed and a lot less sleepy than Steve expected. “Stop harassing my boyfriend. Do you know what fucking time it is? Let him sleep.”

“Aww, babe,” Steve says, just as the kids let out one feral, synchronised, “Boyfriend!?”

Billy drapes his arm over Steve’s waist, low-key possessive, subtly claiming him. Steve doesn’t even have to look up to know there’s a dangerously challenging glint in his eyes, that he’s probably watching the kids how a predator sees its prey.

“You heard right,” Billy snaps. He’s unbearably warm. 

Steve tries to smile at the kids, but his mouth is squished against his pillow, and it probably doesn’t look as nice as he meant it to. “Sorry for, uh, lying about that. I just- I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Dustin looks at him like he’s gone insane. “What? Steve, that’s stupid. Did you really think we were gonna be, like, homophobic or something?”

Steve waves his hand around vaguely. “I mean, I was just worried,” he says. “And I didn’t think you’d be okay with me dating Billy.”

“Hey!” Billy says, but he doesn’t really sound mad. 

“Fair point.” Max shrugs. “I still don’t know what you see in him.”

Billy’s grinning, Steve’s sure of it. That’s never a good thing. “I’m great in bed,” he says. 

Steve sits up just to whack him with a pillow. “Jesus, Billy!”

The kids all look equally mortified, except for Max, who just seems unimpressed. She lives with Billy though, so it’s probably not the worst thing she’s ever heard him say. Steve feels a little bad for her. 

“What?” Billy rolls his eyes. “I’m not wrong, and they’re not as innocent as you think, Harrington.”

Steve punches his arm and groans. “Stop talking, please.”

“Aw, baby,” Billy says, licks his lips. He curls one hand around Steve’s neck and pulls him closer. “You gonna make me?”

Steve tilts his head, leans forward until they’re almost kissing, steadies himself with a hand on Billy’s chest. “I guess, since you won’t do it yourself,” he says, “someone has to.”

He lets his eyes flutter shut and slots their lips together, and then they’re sorely interrupted by Max’s very loud and very obnoxious gagging. Billy laughs against Steve’s mouth, and when he pulls back, he’s smiling like the adorable goof he secretly is. 

“Don’t be gross,” Max says, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “We’re still here, god.”

“Wow, you just said  _ fuck gay rights _ , huh?” Billy isn’t actually serious, though, if his smirk and the teasing tone of his voice are anything to go by. 

Max flips him off, but she’s smiling too. Steve likes seeing them like this, all friendly and comfortable and affectionate in their own weird way. He remembers when they used to hate each other, when their relationship was tense and strained, and he’s just glad they’re good now. 

Dustin, who’s been staring at Steve with a mock-betrayed expression, suddenly turns to Billy and says, all too seriously, “Please tell me you can cook.”

Billy raises an eyebrow, like he’s suspicious of Dustin’s intentions or something - which is fair, honestly. “Yeah, I can. Why?”

“Breakfast in ten minutes,” Dustin says, and then he’s breaking out into a toothy grin. “Better be pancakes.”

Before Steve can even really process that Billy’s basically being forced to make breakfast for a bunch of preteens, Dustin hurries everyone out of the room, whispering something Steve can’t quite make out. He winks before he leaves, so Steve assumes it’s a good thing. 

Max is the last one out. She lingers by the door for a few seconds and says, “You’re lucky we’re even giving you ten minutes, dipshits.”

She closes the door behind her as she leaves, and the minute they’re alone, Billy starts laughing. He falls back on Steve’s bed, nearly hitting the wall, shaking like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him. Steve laughs too, collapses beside him, and he doesn’t even know what’s so funny. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. Billy just has a really infectious laugh, and Steve’s never been able to resist it. 

“They’re such nerds,” Billy says. He sounds fond; Steve’s sure, with a little more time, the kids will grow on him. 

“The nerdiest,” Steve agrees.

They burst into another laughing fit, and they probably look ridiculous, but Steve doesn’t care. He can’t find it in himself to care, because this really is the funniest fucking thing. All this time, he’s been so worried about coming out to the kids, and they didn’t even care about the fact that his secret girlfriend is actually a secret boyfriend. They just thought their public displays of affection were gross - and when Steve was their age, he would’ve thought the same thing. It’s so fucking funny, and he’s so fucking relieved. 

When their laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of them in the quiet room, washed in the gold stripes of sunlight filtering through the window, Billy shifts to face Steve and rests a warm hand on his cheek. There’s something unspeakably soft in his eyes. 

“Hey,” Steve says, quiet and gentle. He’s afraid of breaking the moment. 

Billy smiles at him. “Hey. Can I kiss you?”

Steve boops his nose and laughs. “You don’t even have to ask,” he whispers. 

Billy rolls over until he’s above Steve, and then he leans down to kiss him properly. Steve wraps his arms around him to keep him close, digs his fingers into Billy’s skin. Billy takes his sweet time working his mouth open, kisses him like the kids aren't timing them. Steve lets out a quiet, content sigh, focuses on Billy's sharp teeth gently grazing his lip and the warmth he radiates. If he could stay in bed like this, all day, he'd be a happy man. 

Steve shifts, lets his head fall back against his pillow and closes his eyes as Billy trails kisses down his chest. Just as he reaches Steve’s navel, dangerously close to the hem of his boxers, he abruptly pulls back and rolls off the bed. Steve leans up on his elbows and frowns. 

“Rude,” he says, giving Billy his best puppy eyes.

Billy grins and hops into his tight-ass jeans. “Come on, we have kids to feed.”

“You can have custody, I don’t want them,” Steve mumbles. He flops back against his pillow and lets out a tired groan.

“Aww, babe.” Billy laughs, puts on his shirt and fluffs up his hair, and now Steve really knows there’s no chance of getting him back in bed. “I’m too pretty to be a single mom.”

Steve groans again, because it’s way too early and he’s way too tired to deal with Billy’s shit, and he’d really like to go back to sleep. But Billy does, unfortunately, have a point; if they don’t make their way to the kitchen by the time ten minutes have passed, the kids will come in and drag them there, and Steve knows they’ll probably make a lot of not-so-subtle sex jokes. So as much as he doesn’t want to leave his warm and comfortable bed, he kind of has no choice. 

“Okay, fine,” Steve grumbles, reluctantly pulling on the first shirt he finds on the floor, “but only because I don’t want Dustin to, like, fall in love with your pancake-making abilities or something.”

Billy blows him a kiss and says, “He will anyway, darling. Everyone does.”

Steve flips him off as he gets dressed, but his irritation doesn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Billy, who’s shamelessly checking himself out in the mirror. Like he’s seriously trying to impress and charm literal children. Like it’s important that he looks good in front of them, even though they’re probably all still gross and messy and must have bad morning breath.

“Hey, did you even bring the DVDs?” Steve asks, nearly trips over his own feet as he tries to get his socks on. 

Billy catches his eye and smirks. “Nah, I forgot. I got distracted ‘cause I kept thinking about your dick.”

Steve throws a pillow at him and ducks his head to hide his blush. He wonders, sometimes, why he ever said yes when Billy asked him out, what possessed him to think that going on a date with him and swooning over his bedroom eyes was ever a good idea. 

“Hey, Harrington.” Billy leans against the doorframe and gestures out to the hallway. “Don’t take too long or you might not get any food. I’m only making so much.”

Steve huffs, but he doesn’t argue because he knows Billy’s right. The kids will eat whatever they get like they’re starving, and then they might even have the audacity to ask for more. Not that Steve thinks Billy would mind. He likes cooking, likes making food that looks and tastes good, likes being in the kitchen, where he’s fully in control of everything he does. It brings a little stability, a little comfort, into his life. And Steve’s definitely not complaining - the mac’n’cheese Billy made him was literally to die for. 

Once he gets dressed and he looks semi-presentable, Steve cleans up his room and makes his bed, mostly out of habit. He picks up all the dirty clothes on the floor, because he knows Billy’s going to complain about it later and he’s hoping he might get some action when the kids are finally gone. 

He’s kicking all the scattered garbage under his bed when he hears muffled voice from outside. It vaguely sounds like Max, or maybe Mike, and then whoever’s speaking is loudly interrupted by Billy yelling something about  _ entitled brats _ . It’s followed by the clatter of pans, though, so Steve figures they haven’t gotten into an actual argument yet. 

When Steve makes his way to the kitchen, he’s faced with absolute chaos. The kids are all clamouring in the kitchen, shoving past each other to get to the pantry, screaming about which toppings are best. Dustin is pointedly trying to prove that he knows how to cook, though if Max’s face is anything to go by, he isn’t doing a very good job. And Billy - Billy’s standing by the stove with his hands on his hips, like a disgruntled suburban mom, but his smile is unabashedly fond. 

And, well, maybe this wasn’t the worst way for the kids to find out about their relationship. It’s actually kind of nice; this chaotic domesticity is starting to grow on Steve.

“Hey,” Steve says, sliding onto one of the stools by the island and drumming his fingers on its pristine marble. “After breakfast, we can play more Mario Karts, if you want.”

Dustin’s face lights up. “You won’t do anything distracting this time? Because if you do, I swear to  _ god _ I’m calling a rematch.”

“Well,” Steve says, shrugs. He catches Billy’s eye roll and soft smile, and he can’t really help but smile back. “No promises.”

**Author's Note:**

> billy's a Thot and that's a fact. comments and kudos are always appreciated :) and i'm on [ tumblr ](http://mattmuwudock.tumblr.com)! come say hi!


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